The Triboar Trail, Chapter 8. Droop

8.1 Goblin Orientation

The sun warms each of their faces as they step up from the musty ruins of Tresendar Manor. A cool breeze hums through the trees carrying the carefree songs of small birds and shedding the damp from their shoulders.

Ivandale shakes his head at the sight of their newest party member. “Droop, keep your cloak up in town. OK? A goblin wont be welcomed in Phandalin.”

The goblin nods his head vigorously in agreement, revealing a row of teeth in what could easily be considered a threatening leer. The elf pulls the red cloak forward, concealing more of the goblin’s toothy grin.

Valoric laughs fondly at the goblin. “C’mon Droop! Let’s get out of here!”

He leads them into the town of Phandalin. In an effort to sneak Droop through undetected, Ivandale does his best to catch the eyes of the townsfolk as they pass through.

Long before the Redbrands came to Phandalin, goblins terrorized the inhabitants. Vile opportunists, the goblins stole shipments, killed defenseless riders, and murders residents who strayed too far from the safety of Phandalin’s borders. The group’s own introduction to town came by way of an ambush by a goblin warband who had already kidnapped their employers.

They pass through town without incident and arrive at Daran’s cottage. Zaf the miner joyfully waves to them before calling Daran to join them.

Daran exits the small house, beaming his cheery smile to the group. “Looks like everyone’s in one piece this time. A successful raid I presume!?” he says as he joins them on the street.

Ivandale purposefully steps forward, concealing the goblin. He releases a latch on his cloak, allowing it to billow in the gentle breeze. “It was a successful routing, and we learned a lot. Their wizard escaped, but we collected some of his correspondence. Some letters from his master.”

Nalfos impatiently picks up the thread of the conversation, “The letters were sent by a character who wears the moniker of The Black Spider. He addresses the wizard by the name Iarno.”

“Iarno? I know of him. I spoke with him when he first arrived in Phandalin. He seemed like an alright sort. You have proof?”

Nalfos pushes Droop forward and pulls back his loose-fitting hood, revealing an uncomfortable goblin. “First hand, from our newest ally.”

“A goblin!” Shouts Daran with a start, “Are you mad!”

Valoric steps forward imposingly. “The goblin risked his neck to aid our cause. He’s earned our trust.”

Daran sizes him up and regains his composer. “Well, if you all trust him,” he says uncommittedly.

Too quiet for the group outside, Zaf whispers to his friend, “The only good goblin is a dead one. We should kill him and be done with the scum!” The other miner nods in agreement.

Ivandale’s elven ears catch the hostile whispers and threats. “Daran, I hate to cut this short, but we have a rogue wizard to catch up with,” Ivandale interjects. “We’ll take the goblin with us, but he can’t leave dressed like a Redbrand. Do you have a cloak we could take with us?”

“Not in his size most likely, but there are a few behind the door inside.” Daran responds, thumbing in the direction of the cabin. “You’re welcome to take one, if it fits.”

Ivandale walks to the cottage, thanking Daran as he passes. He enters, pushing Zaf and his friend further inside. “I heard the two of you. We have this handled. Leave it alone.”

“You can’t trust a goblin. It’ll turn on you as soon as it’s in the things best interest!”

“The goblin’s with us. If either of you start trouble, I’ll be the one to finish it. Don’t start trouble Zaf.”

Daran hears the raised voices through the doorway and calls to the miners before a fight can erupt. “Zaf! The two of you, grab some weapons and keep an eye on the manor. Let me know if those thugs return.”

“Fine elf. Just keep a tight leash on your damned pet,” Zaf submits. The two miners trudge up the road, steering wide of the adventuring party.

Ivandale grabs a child-sized cloak and rejoins the conversation outside as Valoric asks the goblin, “Where did you come from?”

“Droop is - was. Droop was Cragmaw goblin.”

Daran asks the next question, “And why were you with the wizard, Droop?”

“Droop not good goblin,” he says, collapsing with a sigh. “Not good hunter. Not good fighter.” He stands up proudly, “Droop is a smart goblin. Droop translated for the wizard and the nasty bugbears.” He spits the last word in disgust.

Ivandale holds up the brown cloak, “Let’s get rid of that Redbrand outfit, Droop.”

Droop peels off the oversized garment and leaves it in the street, allowing Ivandale to help him into the new cloak. He tucks his long ears - still crusted with the blood of the recent piercings - into the hood. Daran shakes his head in disbelief as he spies the jeweled eyepatch around the goblin’s waist glittering in the sun.

Nalfos asks another question of the goblin, “Droop, where are the rest of the Cragmaw goblins?”

Droop responds quickly, “Cragmaws live in Cragmaw Castle. The Black Spider lives there too.”

Daran joins the inquiry, “I’ve heard of Cragmaw Castle. Searched for it myself. Where is it goblin?”

“North! In the woods!”

Daran turns to Ivandale, “Not much to go on, but it’s more than we had this morning. If you’re going after Iarno, you should talk to your buddy Sildar.” He shoots a glance at Droop. “Sildar might have some useful information about this damned wizard. I suspect you’ll find him at the Townmaster’s Hall.”

Each of the adventurers thank Daran and return to town. They carefully maintain a formation around the goblin, in an effort to hide him from the inhabitants of the quiet village.

8.2 Politics in Phandalin

They’re greeted by an argument at the Townmaster’s hall. Both Sildar and Harbin’s raised voices carry out into the street through the open front door.

“You’re a fool Harbin! This town is being taken over by thugs and you’re letting it happen!”

Ivandale smirks and quietly leads the group into the building. As he enters, he removes an advertisement offering a reward to anyone brave and able enough to dispatch a band of orcs. The bounty is signed, ‘Harbin, Townmaster of Phandalin.’

Meza’s hulking mass blots out the warm sunlight as she passes through the doorframe. The sudden change interrupts the argument.

“Well well, if it isn’t Phandalin’s newest problem! Here to engage in more open warfare in the streets of my poor village?”

Sildar frowns at the Townmaster, “Ignore this fool. What news do you have for us?” Sildar still wears the cuts and bruises from his recent capture.

Ivandale addresses the Townmaster with a smirk, “I expected a better reception for the heroes who solved your Redbrand problem.”

Harbin looks flabbergasted. “Solved? We had two attacks just yesterday. What’s changed today?”

Ivandale responds without losing his smirk, “We routed their lair! Everyone of them is dead save their wizard and he’s on the run. We intend to tie up that loose end shortly.”

Ivandale’s smile infects Sildar, “Well now. Finally some good news in this backwater! I told you that these adventurers were up to the task, Harbin.”

Ivandale continues, “The wizard went by the name of Glasstaff, but we recovered some of his personal effects. His true name is Iarno Albrek.

The smirk and color drains from Sildar’s face, “Iarno? No, you’re wrong. Not a chance. He was a member of the Lord’s Alliance!”

Ivandale slips the bounty into his pack and retrieves the letter they retrieved from Iarno’s desk. He unfolds it and hands it to Sildar. The hand-drawn seal of the Black Spider visible to everyone in the room.

“I knew Iarno! This evidence is damning, but I still can’t believe it!”

Ivandale reaches a hand out, retrieving the letter. “Why not, Sildar? What can you tell us about him?”

“He’s one of the most sincere men I’ve worked with in the Lord’s Alliance. Persuasive but not the bravest, he was a friendly ally in the organization.”

“We intend to collect him,” interjects Nalfos. “There’s the matter of a reward to settle before we leave.”

“Right, two-hundred gold for information leading to the leader of the Redbrands.” Sildar removes a pouch from his belt and passes it to Nalfos. “There’s an additional reward if he’s brought back. He’ll have to answer for his crimes. Here, take this map of the area as well.”

Nalfos takes the folded map and pockets the gold with a smile. “We have some evidence that he may have run north to meet this Black Spider. Iarno seems to be just one element of a more complicated conspiracy.”

Droop takes a step forward, but Ivandale dramatically flourishes his cloak to gain access to his pack. Before the goblin can contribute, Valoric grasps his small shoulder and steers him out through the front door.

Ivandale finishes stowing the letter and readjusts his cloak with a smile. “We should be off. A manipulative wizard has no business running free.”

The rest of the group exits the building. They pass through the village center and take the road north out of Phandalin.

A few miles outside the village Nalfos asks, “Do we know where we’re going? Droop, you’re Cragmaw. How do we find the rest of the Cragmaw Clan?”

The goblin frowns, exposing a jaw full of sharpened teeth. “Droop forget how to find Cragmaw Castle. North. A few days carry through the woods.”

Valoric laughs, “North? That’s not much to go on. Do you mean to tell me you’re used to being carried Droop?”

“Bugbears hate Droop because Droop walks slow.” He tugs his shirt away from his neck in a grimace, “Mosk carried Droop when Droop was tired…”

Valoric stops the procession and removes his pack. “We should set our destination before we continue further.” He says while removing his items and distributing them throughout the group.

“There isn’t much to the north. Droop’s woods must be Neverwinter Wood,” suggests Nalfos as he consults the map. “There’s a label here. Thundertree?”

Ivandale nods while stowing Valoric’s dry rations in his own pack. “Mirna, the woman we rescued, hails from Thundertree. She said it lays in ruins, but she never mentioned a castle.”

“That’s right. She said her family heirloom was still in the ruins of her house,” Valoric says as he hands his mess kit to Tinkerella.

Tinkerella holds the mess kit in front of her with a confused look on her face. “Valoric, why are you emptying your pack?”

He holds open the top flap and shrugs. “Droop said he’d slow us down. I’m going to carry him.”

Meza erupts in laughter as the small goblin dives through the open flap. Valoric easily shoulders the pack and tightens the straps. Droop surfaces from the folds with a giant grin.

8.3 An Ambush Planned

They pass over the Triboar Trail as the sun begins to fall on the horizon. The plains slowly climb to meet the first trees of Neverwinter Wood.

Valoric adjusts his pack, “Does this look familiar yet Droop?”

“Nope,” comes the dismayed reply from behind him. “Droop not remember.”

Nalfos rolls his eyes, “To think we acquired the smart goblin.”

Droop smiles his toothy grin.

Tinkerella yawns. “I’m not sure how much longer we should walk. Better to make camp before the sun sets.”

“Agreed. Let’s make camp for the night,” Ivandale says supportively. “This spot can’t be any less safe than goblin infested woods.”

“Ha! I’d welcome an attack to break up the boredom of this hike!” says Meza. She flexes to accentuate the joke.

Nalfos rolls his eyes, “Being on the receiving end of an ambush might be just what we need. We could draw the location of the castle from one of them.”

Droop leans over Valoric’s shoulder. “Droop can help!” He nearly falls out of the pack in his excitement.

“I just heard goblin voices.” Ivandale points to the east, “I don’t think we’ll need that help after all Droop.”

Three goblins rise from the tall grass, bows drawn on the group.

Tinkerella places a hand on the loose soil and whispers an enchantment. Large vines burst from the ground around her opponents. Thorny tendrils writhe around the legs of the goblins, rooting the two smaller goblins in place. The larger of the three goblins manages to pull himself free before the vines are able to bind it’s legs.

All three release a volley of arrows toward the adventurers, but the distraction of the grasping vines causes each arrow to twist off harmlessly.

The leader screams in frustration. His call is answered by the war cries of from the north and south of the skirmish. A pair of goblins at each location release a volley of arrows. The shots are rushed. Three shots fall nearby, but Meza screams as the fourth arrow hits her leg.

Valoric and Ivandale run to engage the pair of goblin archers to the north.

Feeling exposed, Nalfos seeks to further hamper the primary force. He flings a flash of fine sand into the air and speaks an incantation. A gust of wind catches the fine particles of sand and carries it to the goblins. The two smallest attackers fall backward, snoring as hey collide gently with the creeping vines.

Their leader’s eyes begin to close, but it shakes off the enchantment in a fit of rage.

Meza pulls the crude arrow from the meat of her leg and charges south to engage the pair. As she comes into range with the two goblins, the pain in her legs causes her to stumble. Her axe twists from her grip. She’s able to recover, but the blade bites into her own shin.

Concerned for her friend causes Tinkerella to embrace her wildest instinct. She charges after the barbarian and as she does, her footfalls begin to boom as her mass grows. Her wild hair turns a dull brown and recedes. As she closes the gap, she drops to all fours and giant claws tear up the loose soil. She arrives at her friend’s side as she completes her transformation into a massive brown bear.

The goblin in front of her yelps in terror and releases it’s arrow. It hits Tinkerella’s massive form, but the missile only enrages the transformed druid futher.

The lead goblin barks a threat at the sorcerer who has disabled his allies and fires another arrow. Nalfos quickly brings a hand up defensively and speaks a single command word. The air around him appears to coalesce, briefly encasing his body in a crystalline shell. The arrow connects with his shoulder and splinters harmlessly.

Ivandale and Valoric duel with the two goblins in the northern group. One of the goblins lunges at Ivandale. He dodges the thrust, but the goblin twists the blade sideways into the rogue’s left forearm. Valoric cuts it down with his axe and Ivandale finishes it with the swipe of his own sword.

Meza screams a barbarian war cry and raises her battle axe in the air, but she stumbles on her wounded leg as she brings the massive blade down. The delay allows the goblin time to sidestep her attack. It pounces forward and buries it’s sword in her gut. The wound overpowers her and she collapses in the grass.

Nalfos sees the goblin cheering over Meza’s injured body and hurls a conjured bolt of fire. The spell hits the goblin and it explodes in a burst of flame. The charred goblin is thrown backwards. Putrid smoke curls from it’s still remains.

Tinkerella tackles the smoldering goblin’s ally. It dodges a swipe of her massive claws, but she’s able to close her teeth on it. She tears a chunk of flesh from it’s shoulder with her mighty jaws.

The goblin leader becomes enraged as the force it commands is slowly cut down. He fires another shot at Nalfos, but it’s frustration causes the shot to go wide.

Valoric and Ivandale continue to spar with their goblin. It makes another desperate lunge at the weakened elf and Valoric takes advantage of the opening it provides. As the goblin leans into the attack, Valoric drives his axe up in an underhand swing. The blade connects under the goblin’s chin, separating the head from the body in a spray of blood.

Ivandale steps back from the falling corpse and draws his bow. He winces as the deep gash in his forearm opens. He draws an arrow, but isn’t able to pull with his full strength. He releases the shot, but the arrow falls short of the goblin leader.

Nalfos opens his arms wide as conjured flames cascade down them, pooling between his fingers. He quickly spins his palms towards the goblin leader, releasing the twin bolts of flame. The leader crouches low, avoiding the first bolt. The second bolt connects with one of it’s sleeping allies causing it to wake with a surprised howl.

Tinkerella rears up on her hind legs and hurls her full weight into the remaining goblin in the south flanking group. She latches onto it’s scrawny neck and batters it’s ribcage with a mighty swipe of her claws. It’s neck snaps between her teeth and she tosses the limp form into the dirt.

She hears the impact of Nalfos’s spells and turns to join the combat, but her keen bear senses remind her of Meza’s fading heartbeat. Tinkerella sheds her bear form in hopes that she still has time to save her friend.

Valoric and Ivandale race towards the goblin leader, stopping as they reach the edge of Tinkerella’s gnarled vines. Ivandale draws his bow but the grip is slick with the blood dripping from his forearm. The bow twists in his hand as he releases an arrow, causing it to land harmlessly in the vines.

The goblin leader snickers at the weakened elf and releases his own arrow. The jagged tip streaks into Ivandale, ripping through his leather jerkin. He grabs his chest and lurches forward, tasting blood as his head swims.

Tinkerella bites her signature bright pink lips as she pulls bandages from her pack and staunches the bleeding in Meza’s torso. As she applies pressure to the wound, she draws nature’s rejuvenating magic up through the ground around her. Meza draws a full breath as small blossoms spring from the ground around them.

As the recently awakened goblin begins to stand, Nalfos whips another fiery bolt at it. It stumbles backwards as the impact pulls it’s final breath in a fading cry.

Valoric requests Helm’s aid and braces Ivandale as the elf collapses. As an answer to his prayers, the seal on his shield begins to glow. Ivandale’s wound stitches together and the arrow falls to the ground.

“Don’t kill the leader. We need answers!” Nalfos yells. He conjures another bolt of flame and sends it sailing into the sleeping goblin.

Tinkerella stands as her friend stirs. She joins the group as they advance on the two remaining goblins. Fires light in the gnome’s angry eyes as she conjures her own flame and hurls it into the smaller of the two opponents. The blast explodes and it collapses in a smoldering heap.

The leader fires it’s next arrow at Valoric, but the attack whistles into the night as he deflects it with his shield. Ivandale draws his bow again and sinks an arrow into the goblin leader’s shoulder.

Injured and realizing that it’s allies have all been slain, the goblin leader turns to run. The vines tear at it’s legs as it retreats.

Valoric wades into the snaring growth. His armored boots kick through until he’s able to dive onto the fleeing goblin, pinning it to the ground. Droop is nearly flung from the backpack. The puny goblin reaches out and smacks the larger opponent.

“Don’t kill me!” cries the goblin leader as Droop clobbers the back of it’s head.

Valoric continues to pin the sobbing goblin as the enchanted vines begin to wilt. Nalfos wades in and binds the foe with a length of rope. Meza and Ivandale tend to their injuries.

Droop climbs to the ground and bares it’s sharpened teeth in a cruel smile. “Who are you!?” he barks in the crude goblin language.

Surprised to be interrogated by another goblin, the leader’s eyes dart amongst the group. It responds, “Nim”.

The name drains the color from Droops green skin and he immediately looses his confidence. “You’re Nim?” he stutters in the common language.

Nim smirks as Droop realizes who they’ve captured.

Ivandale feigns concern. “Nim, I think there’s been a misunderstanding. We’re looking for Cragmaw Castle. Glasstaff asked us to meet him there.” He scowls at Droop, “Our guide seems to have forgotten the way.”

Nim’s smile broadens, “Cragmaw Castle is fifteen miles north, just past the split tree. I can show you, if you untie me.”

“Untie you? I’m not sure we can trust you Nim,” responds Ivandale.

The goblin leader cackles and spits at the elf, “Stupid elf! Even if you reach the castle, Glasstaff and the Black Spider will kill you all. You’re doomed!” he croaks.

Ivandale draws his rapier and skewers the goblin in a single swift movement.

He wipes the blade and turns to the group, “Our path is set, but so is the sun. We should make camp.”